


Moments in Captivity

by Maizeysugah



Series: Moments in the Wizarding World [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maizeysugah/pseuds/Maizeysugah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Voldemort, having gained a new body by using Harry Potter’s blood, realises the boy is, in fact, a Horcrux. Like Nagini, he keeps Harry very close to him at all times and has one of his Death Eater’s children care for him as a nanny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments in Captivity

Within the depths of the old mansion there lived a boy of 15 who was locked in a room without windows. His mind was filled with dread straight from the Dark Lord’s mind. It poisoned him, kept him docile, unable to fight or think straight. He was constantly nauseous and perpetually ill with fever. He spent his days and nights sleeping, only waking up to follow the orders of his permanent caregiver. 

The door to the room opened and closed and Draco Malfoy sneered at the Boy-Who-Lived with nothing but hatred. “Get up, it’s dinner time, Potter.” 

Harry Potter moved to the door in a daze. Drugs burned through the lining of his stomach and stunted all coherent thinking. He let Malfoy lead him through the house toward the dining room and let him sit him down beside the Dark Lord to dine. The young Slytherin forced a fork into his hand and pushed his head down toward his plate. “Eat, Potter.” 

The Dark Lord questioned Malfoy about Harry’s care. The boy had been a prisoner for almost a month since the instance in Little Hangelton’s graveyard. Everyone was learning to cope with the changes in their lives. 

Nagini slithered into the dining room and bared her fangs at the Gryffindor. Harry hardly noticed, he concentrated on doing what he was told and swallowed what he was chewing as per Malfoy’s instructions. 

This was the last thing in the world Draco thought he might end up doing as a vocation but it was his master’s will that forced him to do it. He was Harry’s caregiver, living in the bedroom with him like a servant, caring for the other boy’s needs and not needs, doing whatever the Dark Lord told him to do without question. He wouldn’t finish his schooling like Potter wouldn’t. He was to be Harry’s manservant for life. It was humiliating and gratifying all in one. He hated Potter and he was in charge of Potter. He tortured Potter whenever he could. Unfortunately, Potter was drugged up to the point of unconsciousness and barely noticed his bullying. Still, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted to torture the boy without repercussion. 

Draco had to help the Gryffindor eat, feeding him himself as Harry couldn't stab any part of his pasty with his fork, missing the plate completely many times, to the point that the Dark Lord sighed and looked at him, and he never looked at him. “Open your mouth, Potter. Come on, take a bite. Now chew it. There you go, good boy.” 

The Dark Lord resumed eating, satisfied with his young Death Eater’s performance of dealing with his other living Horcrux.

* * *

 

At first, Harry resisted him. He certainly couldn’t look at him, especially since he was bathing him at that moment. “I can do this myself,” he told him, feeling utterly humiliated. He refused to loosen his foetal position he was sitting in, it was ridiculous as to why he wasn’t allowed to bathe himself, he was 15 years old…or maybe 16. “Malfoy, stop!” Harry shouted when the other boy tried to pry his hands free from around his legs. 

“Shut up, Potter, you bloody-well know I have to do this!” he cried, clenching his teeth. “Stop acting like such a baby. You’re going to get us both in big trouble again!” 

“I’m not trying to get us into trouble, I’m just sick of this.” Reluctantly, though, he allowed the other boy to finish his duties and get him ready for bed. Malfoy combed his hair for him and pulled his night shirt down over his head, effectively messing his hair up again. “Just give me the comb,” Harry said, sighing. Draco swatted his hand away and combed it again. 

It was times like these, when the Dark Lord made the young Slytherin care for Harry like a toddler, it made the young captive miss freedom most. He had no idea what day it was or what was happening in the outside world. He was forced to wear a collar like a dog that inhibited his wild magic. He would never leave Riddle House again. He was a prisoner, he was a living Horcrux. 

“Come on, we’re late.” Draco took Harry by the hand and they ran down through the extensive hallways until they reached their master’s chambers. Draco rapped his knuckles on the main door and said “He’s going to bed right now, my Lord.” He waited for a reply but got none. He shrugged and dragged Harry to his room. He pushed the other boy into the room and began undressing himself for that night’s slumber. “No problems, get in bed.” 

The door to the bedroom opened and the Dark Lord peeked his head inside. “Is he in bed?” 

“Yes, my Lord,” Draco said, bowing to the man. 

“Did he get his bath?” 

“Yes, my Lord.” 

“Did he take his pills?” 

“Yes, my Lord.” 

Harry winced in pain. His scar burned. 

“Did he give you any problems?” 

“No, my Lord,” Draco said, averting his eyes. 

Without another word, the Dark Lord closed and locked the door. Harry’s scar stopped hurting. 

Draco dropped down onto the bed and curled up in his duvet. Harry rolled onto his side. “Thanks, Malfoy,” he said under his breath and closed his eyes, not expecting anything in return. 

“You’re welcome, Potter, now go to sleep.” 

Harry was stupefied. He shrugged and closed his eyes, wondering what else Malfoy might say to him in the future that didn’t involve instructions.

* * *

Draco clamped a hand down over Harry’s mouth in attempt to block the screaming he was doing over the intense pain he was experiencing. He was panicked, so fearful of the Dark Lord and for Harry’s wellbeing. “Please, Potter, stop. I don’t know what to do!” he cried, knowing Harry was in agony but unsure of what to do about it. 

The Dark Lord opened their door, furious with the noises emanated from his Horcrux and the gigantic headache the Chosen One was giving him. “Why is he screaming again? I’m in a meeting!” 

“He’s in a great deal of pain, my Lord, he’s been vomiting, too. He needs a medi-witch,” Draco told him, praying the wraith would grant him use of their medi-witch. 

“I’ll send Wiggy up to give him some medication,” Voldemort told him, irritated. “Do try and keep him quiet. I’m in a meeting, this is important.” 

Wiggy the House-Elf appeared shortly thereafter and handed Draco several magical pills to administer to the boy. “Wiggy is giving Master Malfoy the pills to shut up Master Potter, sir. Do that, shut him up.” 

“I’m trying,” Draco shouted, shooing the house-elf away. He shoved the pills into Harry’s mouth and covered it again with his hand, hoping he’d either swallow them or they’d dissolve in his mouth. 

A medi-witch appeared within the hour and scanned the boy for ailment. “It’s his appendix, it’s ruptured,” he said, and removed the offending organ post-haste. 

Harry curled up against Draco while his caregiver petted his hair. “It’s over, Potter,” he said in a soothing voice. “It’s over. No more pain.”

* * *

They were at the opera. Harry looked down at himself. He was wearing a tuxedo. He was the Name of Change for the Dark Side but he had no choice but to be that. He couldn’t think straight, he was always drugged, he only knew what he was told to do and it annoyed him incessantly. Several cameras snapped photos of him sitting so calmly next to the Dark Lord in his little handsome tuxedo, proving to the world that Harry believed in the master’s word. 

The Dark Lord persistently gestured to The-Boy-Who-Lived, even hugging him a few times while flashbulbs popped and crowds gathered around them before the performance began. There were floating microphones circling them. Draco squeezed Harry’s hand and gave him a nudge. “You can do this, Potter. Remember what we memorised.” He encouraged the boy to speak, to say the words his master had prepared for him. 

Harry gave him a nod and looked out at the crowd gathered beneath their box seat. He cleared his throat. “It is the will of Lord Voldemort to keep the peace between the good wizarding folk and the Mudbloods and their supporters, however savage or barbaric they’ve become. This world will come together and learn civility, as he commands it.” Instantly, he felt the happiness of his master swimming through his head. He smiled very charmingly without control, mimicking the Dark lord’s glee. Both Draco and Lord Voldemort squeezed his hands, both so pleased with Harry’s performance. 

Draco sighed with great relief and dropped his head on the other boy’s shoulder, letting the knots in his stomach loosen up. The Dark Lord smiled at the cameras while he patted his Horcrux’s cheek. “Go on,” he said, waving off the people. “Let’s start the show.” He turned to Harry and Draco as the lights dimmed. He pointed at them, still smiling, something he hardly ever did. “You did good, both of you.” 

Both boys bowed their heads to him, so thankful they had pleased him. Thank you, my Lord. Thank you,” they both rambled until he looked away to watch the opera.

* * *

Harry rummaged through the crisper looking for something he could heat up and take up to Draco. He was certain they’d had chicken soup some time back, although he was unsure how far back that was. It felt like it was not too long ago so the possibility of leftovers being stored inside was very plausible. 

The Dark Lord entered the kitchens, hearing something fall on the ground and shatter. He waved his wand over the broken pickle jar and looked up at the cringing boy standing by the crisper. “What are you doing?” he asked him. “You can’t wait for breakfast? It’s in 20 minutes.” 

“Sorry, my Lord, it’s Draco. He’s sick, I was looking for that chicken soup we had the other day. I wanna take some up to him,” he replied while he fidgeted with the hem of his night shirt. 

“Just ask Wiggy to do it. Draco is your servant, not the other way around,” Voldemort said, agitated. 

“I don’t mind, I want to help him,” Harry replied, nonplussed. “He’s always doing everything, it’d be nice to do something for him for a change.” 

The Dark Lord threw his hands up and rolled his eyes. Harry rubbed the prickle in his scar away. Voldemort tipped his head. “Have you taken your pills?” he asked, curious as to whether the boy was even able to care for himself as loopy as he was. 

“Yes, my Lord, first thing this morning,” Harry said and instantly felt his master’s happiness swirl around through his brain. He smiled back at the man, very pleased with himself. 

“You never fail to impress me, my boy. Keep it up.” The Dark Lord left the room, leaving Harry to resume rummaging around in the crisper for chicken soup. 

Wiggy appeared beside him then, holding a bowl of warmed chicken soup in her tiny hands. “Master is asking me to give this to Master Harry to take to Master Draco, sir.” 

“Thank you, Wiggy,” Harry said, taking it out of her hands. 

“Master is also telling Wiggy to tell Master Harry to be back down for breakfast with Master in 15 minutes and not one minute later.” 

“I won’t be late, I promise.” He took the stairs two at a time and raced through the hallways until he reached his and Draco’s chambers. “How are you?” he asked Draco, who was sitting up in bed with a complexion something akin to an off-colour of green. He was holding a bucket which he placed on the floor to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. He patted the mattress so Harry would sit down beside him. “Bloody Muggle flu,” he said, watching Harry climb onto the mattress and take the top off of the container of soup he was holding. “Oh, what’s that? For me, Harry?” 

“Yeah, remember I grew up with Muggles, Draco, chicken soup will help your flu and cold.” He set the bowl in Draco’s lap and held up a spoon. “Just sip it throughout the day, I’ll come back to check up on you after breakfast.” 

“Thanks, Harry,” Draco said, smiling up at him despite how ill he felt. 

Harry smiled back and patted his knee before tucking the covers in around his legs. “I have to go, he’ll be so cross if I’m late.” He hopped off the bed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Harry wept silently in Draco’s arms while they sat together in the parlour waiting for Lord Voldemort to come and get them. Draco petted his hair softly and whispered encouraging words into his ear. As panic began to rise inside of him, Harry’s heart raced while his breath turned to panting. He had become somewhat agoraphobic over the last year or so. Despite being held prisoner, Harry had never felt as safe before then than he did now inside Riddle House. His experiences with the outside world, Hogwarts especially, had been some of the best times in his life, but also most of the worst. 

Lord Voldemort was taking them both to Hogwarts for a celebration that day. He was allowing Muggle-born children to return as students as a kind gesture, as the school had become pretty empty without them. He had signed a peace treaty with their side to compromise and end the second wizarding war once and for all. 

Now 19 years old, Harry had grown quite tall over time and he was adorably the-boy-next-door handsome. He clung to Draco, gripping him around the waist as tears and snot soaked into the other man’s tuxedo jacket. Draco had also filled out quite nicely. He was very tall and lean, with a classically chisselled face and white-white hair. 

“Come on, Harry, I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m not gonna let anything touch you.” He tipped his chin up to look at him. His glasses were askew. He adjusted them for him and pecked his lips with his own to try and cheer him up. “Don’t you trust me?” 

“Yes, of course I do,” Harry replied, while his heart began to slow and his breathing resumed back to normal. “I always trust you, I’m just so scared.” 

“What did you fear while you were at Hogwarts, remember? It was our master. You don’t have to fear him anymore, do you?” 

“No, of course not,” Harry said, chuckling. 

“What’s the matter, Harry?” Lord Voldemort asked him as he entered the room. He was rubbing the sadness away from his temples as he crossed the room to check on his boy. He dropped a hand over his shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“He’s afraid to go to Hogwarts, you know…” Draco said as Harry began to panic again when his master entered the room. He knew they would be leaving soon. 

“Maybe we should give him some medication, that might help,” the Dark Lord offered, looking down at his boy with distress. “What do you think about that, Harry? Would you like to take something to help calm your nerves?” 

“No, thank you, I don’t want to start taking pills again. I’m being silly, I’m a regular old ninny,” he whined. He took his glasses off and wiped his eyes. 

Both Voldemort and Draco shushed him from the nonsense he was spouting. “Honestly, Harry, you are the only wizard other than Albus Dumbledore to stand up to me in a duel,” Voldemort told him to reassure his confidence. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that again.” 

Bellatrix Lestrange entered the parlour to summon the trio and clucked her tongue as she crossed the room to help them with Harry. “Oh, honestly, Harry,” she said, taking his hand to help him stand. She put her arm around his shoulder and mouthed “I got this,” to the men, and walked the young man out to the carriage.

* * *

Scores of young wizards and witches surrounded Harry as he entered the dining hall, all wanting to talk to him or get his autograph or take a photo with him. He was overwhelmed with surprise, shocked that anyone even remembered him. He signed as many autographs as he could before the Dark Lord swept him away, off to the front of the room so they could take their places and the ceremony could begin. 

Harry looked around the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone he once knew and spotted two very familiar faces, seeing them waving frantically at him to get his attention. His eyes lit up and his mouth dropped open. He waved back at Hermione Granger and Viktor Krum who were sitting at the Gryffindor table. Hermione was holding a toddler in her lap. He looked around for Ron, baffled as to why she was with Krum when he thought she hadn’t cared all that much for the man. He nudged Draco and pointed into the crowd at them. “Hermione’s here, Draco, I’m so excited.” 

Draco felt a pang of jealousy hearing Harry say that, but he faked a smile and gave the couple a curt nod. “What about the other one? What was his name, Weasel-something?” 

“Ron Weasley,” Harry corrected him with a smirk, knowing he’d said his name wrong on purpose. “I don’t see him. I don’t see any of his family, maybe they didn’t come.” 

Lord Voldemort leaned up against Harry and whispered in Parseltongue into his ear. _“I didn’t invite them. They’ve been…difficult, to say the least._ ” 

 _“I see_ ,” Harry replied, pouting. _“I’m sorry they’ve given you trouble, my Lord. I’m very sorry_.” He patted his white hand. 

Lord Voldemort chuckled. “ _Why are you apologising for their actions?”_

 _“It’s probably my fault. I dragged him on all those adventures._ ” 

The Dark Lord ruffled his messy hair. _“It’s not your fault._ ” 

The Minister of Magic took to the podium to introduce himself. Harry continued to look around the enormous room in search of more familiar faces. He was very relieved to see a lot of them. He smiled brightly without control forcing the Dark Lord to experience is utter joy along with him. Both men were smiling like fools while the minister gave his speech. Harry wiped away tears of happiness, so thankful his master had spared so many of his friends’ lives. 

And then he saw him, the one person in the world he thought he’d never see again. He locked eyes with Sirius Black, his godfather, his beloved Sirius as he entered the room on cue. Harry hugged Lord Voldemort for the wonderful gift as the wraith beckoned the man forward to sit at the table with them. “Thank you, master. Oh, thank you,” Harry cried, clutching the man’s tuxedo. The crowd was eating it up. Everyone was in tears when Harry threw himself into Black’s arms and wept openly. 

Again, Draco’s lips were a thin line as he was asked to move to the next seat so that Sirius could sit down beside Harry. He ate his meal in silence while Sirius and Harry chatted about the time they spent in captivity apart. 

“What’s this?” Sirius asked Harry, touching the thin band poking out of his tuxedo collar around his neck. 

“It’s my magic inhibitor, I’m not allowed to use magic.” 

Sirius frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry, Harry,” he said, patting his shoulder. 

“It’s not too bad, I have Draco to use it for me.” He reached over him, patting Draco’s hand and looking longingly into his eyes. “Miss you,” he mouthed to him before tossing him a wink. 

Draco blushed beet-red and blew him a stealthy air-kiss in return. He sat back in his seat feeling refreshed and wishing this ceremony would end so he could spend more time with Harry.

* * *

“Never in a million years could I imagine myself in this house as a visitor.” Hermione eyed the humongous snake that entered the room and began coiling around Harry. The young man leaned down and petted her like a cat while he stared at his former classmate. 

“I know! It’s so strange. All of this has been a whirlwind of strangeness. You can put her down, if you want. She can play with Nagini,” he said, indicating to the small child in Hermione’s arms. 

The child desperately reached out to touch the snake. “You sure?” Hermione asked with trepidation. 

Harry gave her a nod and said something in Parseltongue to Nagini. “Absolutely, she’s actually quite lovely when you get to know her. Very articulate.” Now able to speak freely, Harry had so many questions for the young woman. “So, tell me how you ended up with Krum, I always imagined it would be with Ron for some reason.” 

“Oh, no, that’s isn’t allowed,” she said. “Krum claimed me. I was given to him to free up space in the camp.” 

“Claimed you? Oh gods, that’s terrible, ‘mione.” Harry looked upset, feeling that this was somehow his fault. 

“It’s not bad, honestly,” she informed him. She set her daughter Viktoria down on the floor. “He’s very good to me and it certainly beats the alternative.” 

“I suppose you’re right. You always are.” 

“So how are you getting on here? You-Know-Who seemed kind to you. I wouldn’t have expected that. I figured…you know, you being Harry Potter and all, he wanted to kill you so badly. I assumed he’d do it eventually.” 

“No, he wont kill me, I’m his possession,” he told her straightforwardly. “I’m not positive as to why, but it has something to do with the scar.” 

“And Draco Malfoy, how is he? You two hated each other at school.” 

Harry leaned in closely to her, somewhat embarrassed if anyone else heard him tell her about he and Draco’s budding relationship. “We’re sort of dating,” he whispered. “We’ve gotten very close over the last four and a half years.” 

“Wow, I see,” Hermione said, blushing. “I didn’t know you were gay, Harry.” 

“Bisexual, actually. So is he.” 

“Is the Dark Lord alright with it?” 

“I think he suspects something, but he hasn’t said anything about it. We’re trying to keep it under wraps for now. You know, testing things out.” 

“And what about, you know, the Dark Lord. Does he…have someone?” 

“Funny you should ask!” Harry chirped. “He went out on his first date last Friday. He’d never been on one before that didn’t involve him scamming some rich bird out of their possessions.” They watched Viktoria pet and play with Nagini. “He’s really changed. He has emotions and everything now.” 

“It’s you,” Hermione said, smiling. “You’re still the wizarding world’s hero, Harry. You always will be.” 

“No, I’m not; he is,” he said, smiling back at her. “He’s really very good to me.” 

“Oh, Harry,” she said, patting his arm. “Trust me, you have that effect on people. I live out there in society, you have and always will be our hero. Please believe me.” 

“Fine,” Harry said, blushing. “I believe you.

* * *

”Harry sat down next to Draco on the sofa and handed him a large bowl of popcorn. Lord Voldemort rested back in his armchair and switched on the television. Delores Umbridge adjusted the throw around her as she nuzzled into the armchair beside Voldemort. The movie began and Voldemort switched the lights off with a flick of his hand. 

“Pass me some popcorn, Harry,” Delores said. Harry pulled his wand free from his dressing gown and levitated it over to her. 

As the movie played, Draco and Harry were petting and kissing, eventually moving down along the sofa to properly snog. Draco was lying on top of Harry, kissing him into the cushions. Harry had his arms around his neck. Umbridge nudged the Dark Lord. “They’re already at it again, movie hasn’t been on 30 minutes.” 

“Oh, let them have their fun,” he replied, waving it off. “Besides, it’s his birthday.” Waves of happiness assaulted the Dark Lord. Harry was very happy when he was with Draco, it radiated off of him like tangible joy. 

The woman was concerned at how lenient the man was with his boy. Far more lenient than she would have been. “And you’re really letting them move out? Do you think that’s wise? What if he rebels and switches sides?” 

“He’ll be with Draco at all times and I’m taking his magic away from him again, for a time. He’s not allowed to leave the manor once they move in unless he’s heavily escorted and only authorised people are allowed to visit him. I think that’s a pretty good trade-off,” Voldemort said. “This will show the wizarding world how much I’ve changed and Harry has more than proved himself to be very loyal to me.” 

“That is true,” she said.

* * *

“Oh.” Harry retied his bow-tie. He just could not get it right. “Draco,” he called out. He was fretting too badly to tie a decent bow, his agoraphobia was causing him a great deal of anxiety. He did not want to let the Dark Lord down by fidgeting around during the wedding ceremony, he would be so disappointed in him. “Draco!” 

“What?” Draco asked him, peeking into the enormous walk-in cupboard. He crossed through it and swatted Harry’s hands away to tie his tie for him. Clad only in a towel wrapped around his hips, Harry instantly softened. Draco always had that effect on him. “There,” Draco said, taking a step back to look his boyfriend over. “You look gorgeous, Harry, you are so handsome.” 

Harry looked him up and down. “And so are you. Good lord.” He embraced him and kissed his neck. 

Draco had been doing his hair for over an hour and lost track of time. He looked at his watch, sighing, wishing they could continue to kiss. “Enough of that, scar-head, we’re going to be late,” he whispered, shivering in his arms. “You’re the best man for Mordred’s sake, we cannot be late.” 

“Fine, fine,” Harry said. He helped Draco get dressed and they raced out the door to enter their awaiting carriage. 

The moment they arrived they entered Riddle House they were both ushered over to the ballroom door. Bellatrix threaded her arm in Harry’s. “You look beautiful,” he told her, giving her a smile. She was wearing a gaudy pink bridesmaid dress with a large bubblegum pink bow in her hair. Despite that she did look very lovely. 

“Thank you, dear,” she said, smiling back at him. “So do you. You look fantastic. And you’re going to do fine.” He could feel him shaking but she was very good at making him feel at ease. She was chosen to be the maid of honour for just this instance. 

“Okay, I believe you-Ohmygods, the rings! What did I do with…” Bellatrix showed him the rings, dropping them into his breast pocket. “Sorry, Bella, I don’t want to ruin this day for him.” 

“You won’t. Relax.” 

Harry looked back at Draco, who was arm-in-arm with former Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold. They were standing behind his parents, who were also a part of the wedding procession. The organ began to play the wedding march. Harry took a massive breath and let Bellatrix lead him down the isle. Lord Voldemort was standing at the pulpit, looking the happiest Harry had ever seen him. Both of them glittered with pure content. He stood beside him and the Dark Lord kissed his cheek as he hugged him, so proud of his boy.

* * *

The outdoor reception was well in progress. Harry and Draco danced for hours together, and with just about every other female attending the party. Harry was currently dancing with Narcissa, and Draco was beside him cutting a mean rug with Cho Chang. Suddenly, without warning, everything went black. A thick smokescreen flooded the area. Death Eaters were shouting, clamouring to remove it. Lord Voldemort stood up from his place of honour, incensed. He moved through the crowd of panicked guests, knowing very well what was happening. He touched his forehead as he made his way to the dance floor. 

Harry felt hands on him; clamped over his nose and mouth, wrapped around his body. He could hear Lord Voldemort in his head but the sickly sweet scent he was inhaling was scrambling his brains, darkening his senses. He was lifted up and carried off without resistance. 

As the smoke cleared Draco searched around for Harry. Harry was defenceless, having no ability to use magic. He couldn’t find him anywhere, he was gone. 

Lord Voldemort stood blankly. He looked around the reception for Sirius Black. He was gone, too.

* * *

Ron Weasley fumbled around with his wand, feeling a lot less happy about the kidnapping than he thought he’d feel. Harry was bound to a chair against his will while members of the Order interrogated him. They were not going to release him, either, after the interrogation, figuring he’d run right back to the Dark Lord like the good little brainwashed lap dog that he now was. He was going to be a prisoner in this manor, in Black’s home for the rest of his life. He would eventually accept it, as he had with Voldemort. 

Harry was drunk with Veritaserum. He was fighting to not answer their questions, clenching his teeth with all of his might. Mad-eye Moody put him under the Imperious Curse. It was so hard to watch. 

Sirius petted his hair and sent the other members off. Harry had told them everything he knew, they were just torturing him at this point. He and Ron carried him to his room. 

“Hey,” Ron said, finding Harry staring at him while Sirius removed his tuxedo. “It’s been a long time, eh, Harry?” 

“Yeah, long time,” Harry replied. “How’s your mum? How’s Ginny?” 

“They’re good,” he said, feeling terrible about being in this situation. Harry didn’t act like he was brainwashed as they had assured him he was. He was acting like Harry, just Harry. 

“Alright, Harry, in the bed,” Sirius told him. There were no windows in the room. He wasn’t allowed to undress himself or go to bed when he wanted to. It was like being 15 years old all over again. It broke him, he was so happy and everything was taken away from him again. He’d probably never see Draco again. It broke his heart. His life was a shambles, he was a bloody prisoner again. 

Ron saw the tears slide down his cheeks as he climbed into bed and curled up into himself. Black was standing over the bed, holding a potion. “I need you to swallow this for me.” Harry took it, unwilling to fight back. He’d live life being drugged up again, it was the only way he could stomach this nightmare. 

Sirius ushered Ron out of the room and magically locked Harry inside.

* * *

There were wanted and missing person posters wallpapering Diagon Alley. Ron watched Draco putting up the missing person posters, looking utterly dour. Harry had told him about Draco and his relationship and how they planned to get married and adopt a couple of children. He felt just terrible about it, wishing he could reach out and tell the former Slytherin that his boyfriend was okay. 

He left, heading back to the house he had been hiding in for over seven years. It was agonising, living life as a prisoner himself, so fearful of Lord Voldemort’s wrath. But things had changed. Mudbloods were all over the place again. They had rights just like pure bloods. He didn’t know this up until that point. Harry had told him about this, none of the Order had told him about the progress being made in their wizarding world. It made him wonder who the bad guys were anymore.

* * *

Harry was held, forced against his will to believe his new master’s word. He hated life, decidedly giving up on living as there seemed to be nothing to live for anymore. Ron wanted to set him free, Harry was obviously used to life without Dumbledore. “Let him go,” he heard himself saying, unaware himself of life outside of Grimmauld Place. 

“He’ll come to remember,” Sirius said. 

“He does remember,” Ron told him. “He told me he lived with Malfoy alone. He told me stuff you never told me.” 

“Look, Ron, it was for your own good.” Sirius looked away, conflicted. He wasn’t entirely certain what they were doing was the right thing anymore. Life had gotten extremely better over the last five years, mostly due to changes in the government. He wasn’t completely sure what their fight was about anymore as Muggle-borns had nearly as many rights as pure bloods again. 

“Really? Was it?” Ron threw an ashtray across the room. He had been lied to as he was always lied to. “I didn’t even know Hermione was alive. Did you know, Sirius?” 

“Ron, please, we had our reasons.” 

“Did you know?!” 

“Yes, Ron. I’m sorry. We figured it best to keep that from you in case you ran off to try and rescue her.” Sirius dropped his head, ashamed. 

“That’s not the reason you kept it from me and you know it. You kept it from me so I’d still fight for you.” Ron shoved the Order member aside who was trying to restrain him. He marched away, furious, feeling very betrayed.

* * *

“Just kill me,” Harry begged, finding himself hating life without freedom, no matter who tried to cheer him up. He cried nonstop, there was nothing he could do to forget how much he missed Draco. The Order had even tried removing the memories but they stuck deep. Harry was completely unwilling to let Draco go. “I can’t do this again, I can’t.” 

“You’re just torturing him,” Ron shouted, watching Remus and Sirius do their damnedest to convince Harry he’d been brainwashed. That always stopped Sirius. He would not condone torture of any kind on Harry. 

Ron took the man by the arms. “We need to let him go.” 

“But he’ll go back to him,” Sirius cried, deeply in pain. “I want him to be safe.” 

“He will be safe,” Ron assured him. “He’s not brainwashed, he changed the Dark Lord. I’ve seen the evidence. Muggle-borns are being accepted again. Holding him hostage is only going to damage the progress we’ve made. You have to see that.” 

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ve seen it progressing for a while now.” Black was unsure of what to do but Ron’s words were true. 

“Let him go,” Ron said, knowing they were as bad as the man who initially kidnapped the boy but learnt over time that you cannot hold something so precious hostage, you had to set him free. “Please, Sirius, set him free.” 

“I just can’t, I’m so sorry.”

* * *

Ron decidedly willed himself to free Harry. He had been a prisoner for nearly six months. He was drugged to the point of unconsciousness in order to keep him docile. No matter what Harry said he knew the young man was madly in love with Draco Malfoy. No amount of manipulation would change that. 

He was a partner in keeping the man confused. He did not want to be a part of this anymore. He wanted to set Harry free. 

Ron found Draco again doing the same thing he did every day anymore; putting missing person posters up and asking bystanders if they’ve seen Harry. Ron felt himself crumble. No one had even gone this far the first time Harry was kidnapped. Draco obviously cared very deeply for him. Under Harry’s invisibility cloak, Ron confronted him, jabbing his wand in the other man’s side. “Do you really care about him?” he asked him, while forcing him into an alleyway. “Tell me the truth, Malfoy.” 

Draco allowed himself to be moved. There was something in the other person’s voice that spoke to him. This person was desperate. “Yes, very much. If you know where he is please tell me.” 

“He loves you, Malfoy. Tell me you treat him with nothing but respect, that he’s equal to you. Tell me,” Ron said, needing to hear the truth from someone other than the Order of the Phoenix. 

“I do love him, very much. I treat him with the utmost respect. I love him, Weasley,” he said, remembering how close Ron and Harry were during their time in school. “Please let me see him. I’m dying inside.” 

“Fine, move,” Ron said, prodding the other man with his wand.

* * *

Harry clutched onto Draco, running his fingers through his hair as he wept with happiness. “I never thought I’d see you again. Oh gods, is this a dream?” 

“Shh, it’s alright, I’m here now, honey. It’s going to be alright,” Draco cried, holding Harry in his embrace. “Let me take him home, Weasley,” Draco begged, looking around the room for the invisible man. “Please let me take him home.” 

“If I let him go they’ll crucify me,” Ron confessed. 

“Then come with us. Hermione comes over to visit all the time. You can stay with us. Life is better now, life is good.” 

“She does?” 

“She’s left Krum. I babysit for her all the time.” 

“She left him?” Ron was breathless. Everything he knew was a lie. “How long ago?” 

“Shortly after Harry was kidnapped. She started her own business in Knockturn Alley. She’s a shrewd business woman. She frightens me at times.” Draco curled around Harry like a shield. It was a certainty his lover had been drugged. He was riding in and out of consciousness. Draco’s heart swelled with pity for him. “Harry, wake up, honey. Come on, try and concentrate.” 

“They give him potions to keep him from communicating with You-Know-Who,” Ron told him, pointing at his temple. He looked into the hallway, down either side. “If we’re going to do this we need to do it now.” 

“What?” Draco asked, unsure if he was really saying he could take Harry home. “We can leave?” 

“I’m going with you. Both of you under here.” He held the cloak up and beckoned them over. “There’s a few people in the house at the moment, we need to be absolutely silent.” 

“Harry, not a peep,” Draco told him as he helped him off the bed. They clamoured under the cloak next to Ron and made their way through the house. Ron and Draco worked together to hold Harry up. They escaped and moved down Grimmauld Place until it was safe enough to Apparate. Ron handed Draco his wand back. “Thank you, Weasley…Ron.” 

“I’d do anything for Harry,” Ron said, smiling. “I need you to know that. Anything.” 

“I do know that,” Draco said, taking Harry’s arm to side-along Apparate. “I’ll see you at home.” 

Sirius heard everything they said but didn’t stop them. Ron was right; Harry had to be freed.

* * *

United at last, Harry and Sirius held hands as Lord Voldemort signed the final treaty, effectively giving Muggle-borns the same rights as pure bloods. Harry was so pleased with his master, hugging and kissing him as if he were his father, so completely awed with the man for signing the treaty. “You are such an amazing man, a perfect leader. I worship you,” he said, hugging his master with pure love and admiration. “Thank you, Lord Voldemort, you are truly amazing.” 

“And I’m so proud of you, Harry. You fill my head with such happiness and you’ve proved to me that blood-status doesn’t really matter. We need to take care of all wizards and witches, because we are all we have.” the Dark Lord said, meaning every word of it. 

Sirius and Ron stood front and centre. They were awarded metals for their change of heart to bring the two sides together as one. They were heroes in the eyes of the wizarding world, they were bloody heroes.

* * *

Harry saw Hermione and Ron kiss and looked away, blushing. “I knew it,” he said, seeing them together with as much passion as he and Draco had together. “I couldn’t have predicted this any other way.”

* * *

“And good riddance,” Harry said, teasing his childhood friend while they moved him out of their manor to move into Hermione’s flat. He had Viktoria in his arms, her sworn protector as they levitated bedroom furniture into a rented lorry. The six-year-old had her arms wrapped around her Godfather’s neck and pressed her cheek to his cheek. “How can you make dinner there tonight? You’ll be exhausted from moving in. It’s going to be a mess. I insist that you two come over for dinner tonight. Voldemort and Delores are coming, too. C’mon, Ron. I’m going to hold Vicky here hostage.” 

“Fine, fine, we’ll be here,” Ron said, caving in. 

Young Death Eaters huddled around The-Boy-Who-Lived to protect him as they stepped into the street. “I should probably stay near the house,” Harry commented, feeling his agoraphobia crawling over his skin. 

Draco gave him a nod. “Yeah, that’s fine, stay inside. We’ve got this.” 

After several trips from the house to the street, Ron was all packed up and left to move everything away. Draco dropped down on the sofa beside Harry and put his arm around his husband. They watched Viktoria playing on the floor. Having experienced a life in solitude and depression they had not only survived, they had prospered. The wizarding world was not perfect, but it was far better a place than it had ever been and that was something. 

“Alone at last,” Draco said. “Well, sort of.” 

“It’s time for someone’s lunch. Minky, can you please get Viktoria something to eat so me and Draco can fool around?” 

“Ooh,” Draco said, grinning. 

A little house-elf appeared beside the girl and led her off into the kitchen. 

Harry fell back against the sofa cushions, letting Draco climb on top of him to press their lips together. This was the life, he had everything he wanted, not knowing he wanted any of it until now.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My kitten does the greatest face when you blow on him. He's so lovely, I just want to talk about him all day long.  
> I struggled with this one, which is to say it took a while to write when the other two just flowed. This will probably be the last one of this series unless I get really inspired. If you liked it please hit the kudos button! Thanks!


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